Saturday, November 29, 2014
How I learned to stop worrying and love the beard.
I have a lot against the hipster movement. I mean, at least the free lovers had some sort of ideological bent. Their identity had the teensiest spark of motivation. But why you would grow a handle bar mustache, wear a top hat, a silk vest, a bow tie, and ratty sneakers just doesn't effing compute.
I see seas of lumberjack beards everyday and for the longest time I didn't understand them. But for whatever reason, be it my recent break up or the fact my barbasol had turned to liquid, I stopped shaving. The results have been shockingly complementary. The ladies seem to like it, and that is all the justification I need for damn near every significant thing I've ever done. So I get it, hipsters. A little. Kinda. Why can't you get better shoes?!
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Shine on, you sexy diamond.
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